Let’s call this…THE TANGO LESSON
“My hand…goes here.” She rested her left hand behind his right bicep, their elbows overlapping. Finally, they were touching for real. “This is the position. Lock it in.”
“Locked and loaded.”
“The basic pattern is slow-slow-quick-quick-slow.”
“I’ve never been a slow kind of guy,” he couldn’t help saying.
She arched an eyebrow. “I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Let’s start with the eight-count basic. The first two steps we walk slowly, then close on the three. You’ll lead eventually, but for now, just follow and hold on to me.”
Charlie did not need a second invitation. He moved his hand to the small of her back and pulled her close, smiling when she didn’t resist. When he leaned forward to touch his
forehead to hers, her hand behind his shoulder slid down and curled around his bicep. He swayed them back and forth, though their feet didn’t move.
“You’re not…locking your frame,” Ellie said, her voice a ragged whisper.
“I can’t do what I want to do with a locked frame.”
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Ophelia London 
When I was a teenager, I wanted to be some type of counselor, working w/troubled teens.